By Kim Klein
1
August 2003, Redludwig.com
In
his prime, the Baroque composer and theorist,
Today,
Rameau’s sun is re-emerging, and on this side of
the Atlantic, Kim Pensinger Witman is one of those most enthusiastically
flinging back the curtains of obscurity. In July, as general manager of the Wolf
Trap Opera Company, she fulfilled her dream to give Rameau’s fifth opera,
Dardanus, its North American professional premiere at the 352-seat theater known
as the Barns of Wolf Trap, in a rural suburb outside Washington, D.C. Neither
she, the singers nor the production team had ever actually seen a performance of
the opera. With only
"You’re
all part of the Rameau revival," declared Witman, in one of the
well-attended, lively lectures she offered before each of the three performances
of Dardanus as part of her mission on the composer’s behalf. She added,
"I must give you two personal warnings: First, I am not an expert - I
operate in the operatic mainstream. Secondly, I am pathologically fond of this
music."
The
audience could expect to see Rameau’s flamboyant first version of the opera,
staged in 1739, with a powerful lament sung by the title character, lifted from
the composer’s more realistic 1744 re-write (Rameau took the opinions of his
critics seriously). The production added
some of Rameau’s ballet music for good measure, but cut the Prologue, peopled
by the deities of Mount Olympus. The plot is a sort of prequel to the founding
of ancient Troy by Dardanus, who initially loses battles and the woman he
secretly loves but has the good fortune to have Jupiter as his father. A loyal
sorcerer and a vanquished sea monster allow the hero to triumph.
Earlier,
in an interview with Redludwig.com, the day after opening night, Witman talked
about the hurdles and risks she faced
when she entrusted Dardanus’ operatic rebirth to a summer repertory company.
Never mind that Baroque cognoscenti might
yearn to see a performance of Dardanus by early music ensembles such as Les
Musiciens du Louvre or Les Arts Florissants, who have already recorded or
presented Rameau’s operas. "Our mission, since 1971, has been to provide
a training ground for young American singers, in the operatic mainstream,"
she explained.
"But
the voices, especially for the men, were going to be the hard ones to assemble.
The hero, Dardanus is a high tenor, Iphise, his beloved, is a high lyric mezzo
while the three low males voices, two basses and a baritone, require an
incredible range. In a single phrase the range in pitch may very as much as an
entire role in some other opera." Witman could not deliberately seek out
singers who would be ideal for French Baroque. Developing the most promising
artists came before her visions for under-appreciated repertoire. Biding her
time, Witman, continued to travel across the United States with one of the
company’s coaches, on the annual Wolf Trap audition
trek . This year they had to choose sixteen singers from over five
hundred applicants.
"We
choose the singers first then base our ‘rep’[repertoire] on the voices we
have selected. By the first of the year we have to decide on three operas and
two concerts. Then the production staff spend the next six months putting it
together. We have very little lead time." Summer 2003 proved to be the year
when all the components fell into place for Dardanus. Witman had signed up not
only the vocal range but "singers who could make this leap" into the
unfamiliar repertoire, style and language
of the French Baroque. It was also "quite
a leap of faith in me, when I told them ‘You are Teucer’ or ‘You will be
Anténor’." Quite by chance, Marie Lenormand, who sings Iphise, was born
in France and so her French was "a little bonus."
For the other singers, Witman says, with an almost maternal pride,
"French was a journey to be made. They met the challenge, they caught up.
Marie set a standard the way having dancers on stage set a physical standard
that made the singers reach even higher " in all that they did.
Witman
also lucked out in her production staff. Director Chuck Hudson, fluent in
French, had trained with and become a close associate of renowned mime Marcel
Marceau and was also an expert in stage combat. Australian-born Walker had wide
Baroque choral experience and a CD of a Rameau suite. Since The Barns did not
lend itself to elaborate staging, Witman put energy into securing authentic
music
With
all this striving for authenticity, did Witman’s production team aim for a
totally baroque look? "No, we did not try to make it a 1739 production. It
is set in Greek mythological times, not 1739 . We did not attempt to reproduce
the stage demeanor of that time, either. You can make this transition if you are
honest and true to it." Exchanges between lovers - both scorned and
welcomed - are enacted with affecting realism. Other scenes emphasize stylized
movement by the young women in their draped chitons, or the energetic patterns
of wielded spears by the men in short fighting tunics and armor. The
Barns, which is indeed a converted farm building, precluded "gee whizz"
stage effects so, at certain moments the production opted not to take itself too
seriously. A brassy goddess of love owed more to Mae West than Venus de Milo and
the sea monster was a dragon escapee from a Chinese New Year parade. A riskier
dramatic anachronism was the Saint Sebastian stance given to Dardanus, as he
sang the moving Lieux funestres tied to a pillar, stripped to the waist, with
the illusion of arrows protruding from his body.
The
great test, for Witman and her cast, was presenting the opera to a live
audience. No one had any idea what to expect. Initially, the young singers could
not gauge how the audience was taking the opera. Scene after scene
After
the early performances, Witman sought out "musically
savvy people." To her relief and delight, she talked with men and women who
had come to see the opera out of curiosity, and declared that "even though
we didn’t do any homework, we found it very entertaining." Witman paused
for a moment, before closing the interview, wondering if this was something to be proud of
because "entertaining’ usually implies ‘fluff." Then she said it
again with the conviction that this was the final word she wanted on Dardanus:
"Ultimately,
it’s very entertaining."